


No More Than Two Pounds

by orphan_account



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Other, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:23:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: James takes you to the old market for the day.
Relationships: James Ransone/Reader
Kudos: 4





	No More Than Two Pounds

The old market was bustling with people at stalls, selling everything from watercolour paintings of sunsets to books of poetry from the nineteenth century to organic, homegrown, fruit, and as you and James strolled through, the light rain soft but cold, hand in freezing hand, red-tipped fingers laced together, you couldn’t help but to let something catch your eye; it was a stall selling off old CDs and vinyl records, everything from Hank Williams to Slayer, by the looks of it, and you looked as you walked closer, James smiled a little, tugging you in the direction. 

“Pick out anything you want, it won’t cost you a penny, sweetheart.” He told you, letting go of your hand almost as if to let you run free amongst the records and the discs. 

You hesitated, looking from him to the stall and back again with furrowed brows and a slight pout. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t wanna-” 

James kissed your forehead sweetly, cold lips hardly different on cold skin. “I’m sure… just make sure it’s something good.” 

You smiled, kissing his cheek before going up to the stall and flicking through the various albums until you found one that you knew both you and James would like: ‘1999′, by Prince; you picked it up, showing James, and allowing him to pay the keeper before letting him stuff it in his coat pocket. For a moment or two, the two of you walked, until you came to an alleyway, and turned off into it, which was when you seized the moment, pulling him in for a sweet but icy kiss. 

“Thank you, I love you, but you don’t have to treat me all the time,” you said, feeling guilty over an album worth no more than two pounds. 

He shook his head before pressing his forehead against your own, a couple of drops of rain dripping from his hair into your own as he let a smile come to lay across his lips. “I like treating you. You deserve to be spoiled.” 

You could feel your heart going soft and warm in your chest as you smiled back, licking your lips before pulling away enough so that you could kiss him sweetly again. “I love you, so much.” 


End file.
